She doesn’t cry—her throat forgot the sound. No food. No water. Just a mother’s stare. Her child’s bones knock like glass beneath her skin. They wait for death. No doctor’s hands, no light. A school is shelled. The chalkboard bursts in blood. The maths is simple: one bomb kills a class. The lies are printed fresh on every screen— "We target threats." But infants make no war. A surgeo...

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And so it goes

On

People protest

Against dead bodies

“They’re all terrorists

each and every one”

He says, they say

 

And so it goes on

 

The people are lost

Picking through rubble

Discovering their loved ones

Dead clothes

 

 

But the truth is being hidden

Sanitised by the news

The killing is not so awful

They plead

 

And so...

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